


wake up your saints

by carolinka



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinka/pseuds/carolinka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world that has left a little happiness to offer, Erik finds it despite not having touched that feeling more than twenty years. </p><p>(In which Erik and Charles don't remember a time without a war but they both manage to hold on to each other in the worst of the times.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	wake up your saints

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from a The National song.

The door to his shop rattles loudly with the wind, making the light bulb hanging in the air with a thin cable swing dangerously. If this was five years ago, he would’ve dropped all of his work to fix the door and the light but now, electricity is gone and people have no choice but come to him if they want their furniture and goods fixed, it’s not like he has competition and has to keep an image.

He is in a good situation considering everything that had happened in such short time but he can still feel the constant ache of tiredness deep in his marrows, ready to fight, strengthen the second he lets his guard down. It waits for just one though, one moment of accepting he is miserable and he won’t be coming back from that. It’s like cancer and it becomes more inevitable with every second passing.

He is halfway through making Tony Stark’s wheels and a quick look at the small window next to the door tells him he can be done with it if he speeds up and then he can actually buy himself some meat with the money he receives from Stark.

But hardly anything goes his way these days –or these years, to be frank- and he almost injures himself with a rusty stick when he kneels down to get metal to work on. The thing is, there is not metal left for him to work on, so he has to hire one of these young boys to bring some but he doesn’t trust anyone enough to lend his carts and there is no chance he can close his shop before sunset because he needs customers, he needs money or food or blankets or woods they can exchange with him. He eyes the legs of the chair he works on suspiciously and then decides he won’t find anything better than that unless he goes out.

He is really done before it becomes too dark and when he straightens out, the muscles on his back scream at him and he knows already he’ll suffer for more than a week for this.

He puts the wheels (for Stark), the forks and pots (for Pepper and Emma) in his cart and shoots one look behind, a place that has been more of a home to him than the cottage he sleeps in, before he closes and locks the door.

Stark is all business and cockiness as always, as if the world isn’t collapsing and he hadn’t watched his tower turning into a useless wreck few years ago but then again, it’s actually a welcome illusion of normalcy. The money Stark gives him is as generous as always but Erik doesn’t even argue anymore even though he knows he’ll hate himself for accepting it, like a charity case.

He exchanges the goods with some handmade creams for his back from Emma but he declines an offer for massage. Having been there, done that, he knows Emma’s hands can be magical and untie the knots all over his body but he can’t bring himself to warm random people’s beds anymore.

He buys his meat, few other food supplies and new set of candles and puts them on his cart. Carrying the cart all along the hills will be hard but tomorrow is Sunday and it is the day everyone silently agrees to take off and he has to collect metal for the new week. All of his body aches with the need of a hot bath and to relax but he can’t just sit down on a brick and wish it away.

He bares his teeth and pushes himself to reach his home with the last drops of energy. He knows his face is terrifying with his grimace but it sums up his mood well enough.

Raven and Hank come across him just at the corner of the last street in the town before the woods and he just nods curtly, not wanting to talk and possibly snap at them but Hank stops him nevertheless and asks what’s he doing with the cart at this hour.

“Going home obviously, Hank,” Raven intervenes before Erik can say anything to scar the poor bloke for his life. She gives him one encouraging but silencing smile, then turns to Erik. “Charles is as home,” she says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Erik shrugs as if hearing that doesn’t make his stomach flip and his blood rush to his brain. She grins knowingly at his reply and pats his shoulder before they took off to go to shag in Hank’s house. Erik worries his bottom lip with his teeth before he starts walking towards Charles’ home, impossible to miss.

He takes a deep breath before he knocks on the metal door, much better material than he works with these days. It takes a few seconds before there is a crashing sound coming from the inside but it’s never something to worry about. Charles, being the softie he always has been, opened his home to homeless children and now it’s just a big mess but he knows Charles loves it.

It’s Moira who opens the door and Erik tries hard not to let it show his disappointment, or his distaste but Moira doesn’t like him any more than he likes her and is quick to summon Charles, who looks as presentable as ever, like the war hasn’t wiped out more than half of the world, as if everything is okay and he should keep his hope close to his heart.

He would be angry with him if it was anyone else, angry at his stupid optimism, his bright smile despite the wreck of the outside but he can never be angry with Charles, let alone despise him.

He feels his face relax at the sight of him and it even makes Charles’ face brighter as if he isn’t blinding him like the sun already.

“Old friend,” he says cheerily, hands in his pockets. “What brings you here?”

“I just saw Raven and she said,” he says quietly, not realising he really doesn’t have an excuse to come here other than wanting to see him, “she said you would be here and I thought you might want some company.”

Charles’ smile isn’t the sun anymore but it’s the whole galaxy with all stars and planets in it. And it makes the tension leave his shoulder. “I’d love that my friend, come in,” he says stepping aside to let him pass but Erik shakes his head no, showing the things in his cart. Charles’ face drops for a second but his smile returns when Erik says brashly without thinking, “I actually was going to ask you if you would like to come to my house for the night, I’ll cook. Moira is here to look after the kids, I believe.”

Charles giggles delightedly and it’s the first time Erik genuinely smiled in a week but then again, it’s the first time he saw Charles in a week. “Just let me grab my coat, I’ll be here in a second,” he says as he turns back to climb the stairs, giving Erik a perfect view of his pert bum.

He has chess with him when he is back and it fills Erik’s chest with warmth, something his mother would call love. He shakes the thought away and keeps a safe distance from Charles to keep relatively sane. Charles offers to carry the cart but they both know he isn’t strong enough to carry it long, so he just end up with carrying the food in it.

They don’t talk on their way but Erik feels more peaceful than he ever thought he would be that day and makes a note to be more civil to Raven from now on. Charles hums a song, a song that reminds him of his teenage years and Erik has to turn his neck to swallow around the lump in this throat.

The road is much easier to endure with Charles by his side and he almost feels sad it’s over but that’s gone the second Charles tells him to change his clothes and that he’ll fix the food until he’s back.

“I actually need to have a quick bath, so I need to boil the water,” he says nervously but Charles doesn’t miss a beat, his smile as genuine as ever. Charles lights the fire as he arranges the water. Erik comes back with onions from his humble garden, he is glad he let them grow instead of throwing them in a random meal because Charles takes them from his hands gleefully because it’s not something you find everywhere these days. In the days of absence you start to miss things you didn’t realise you had and somehow, onions and garlic are few of them.

Erik sharpens the knife quickly before he lends it to Charles so he chops the onions, a task he missed quite much, apparently. It doesn’t take long before the water boils and he takes it with an awkward close-mouthed smile but Charles still doesn’t seem bothered at all and Erik wonder for the millionth time if he fakes his comfort.

Erik doesn’t let himself think of the fact that Charles is just few meter away as he is naked in his little bathroom. He washes up quickly, rubbing the places that might stink more carefully. He doesn’t have shampoo but Emma’s soaps make his hair soft enough, even though they come with a heavy price he can’t stop buying it.

The dinner is almost ready when he is back. “I was supposed to cook,” he says guiltily but Charles waves him off. “Another day, my friend, you can make me one of your mother’s delicious dishes.”

If this was another person Erik would’ve punched them in the teeth and made them swallow the broken ones for mentioning her so casually but in Charles’ mouth, the remark sounds fond instead of dismissive, so he smiles, nodding.

They talk about the kids and how their lessons going even though Erik doesn’t care about them but he loves listening to Charles when he talks about something he really enjoys, the way his voice gets higher sometimes and how he starts to wave his arms around excitedly.

He grabs with a steadying hand on his bicep when he gets too excited and his feet tangles in wires. He laughs quietly when he blushes crimson and brings him closer so he doesn’t harm himself with it, that’s what he says to himself when his heart thumps against his ribcage anyway.

They stay like that longer than necessary, longer than socially acceptable and only thing Erik can do is to hope he doesn’t imagine the halt in Charles’ breathing when he puts another hand on his waist to reach the cabinet to pull out a wine bottle. He worries it might not be very tasteful enough for Charles because even in this war-wrecked country, he is an important person and he can live reasonably in his safe zone, wasting too much on the people who doesn’t deserve in Erik’s opinion but he knows when to not offer his opinion.

Charles’ face light up when he sees the wine and Erik leaves it to opening it to him too. He wonders how he does it, be so deeply happy with such small things when there are enormous, horrible things are happening not far away and in all honesty, he envies this.

“I haven’t had any alcohol for a long time,” Charles explains as if he hears his thoughts, which would be quite inconvenient considering the amount of dirty fantasies involving having Charles pinned down over a table and fucking into his hole as he claims every inch of his beautiful skin with his mouth.

Yeah, it’s a great thing Charles is not a telepath or he would have had to bury himself into magma.

“Why haven’t you?” Erik asks, to distract himself from his thoughts. Charles shrugs, filling his metal glasses with the wine. “I’m quite busy with the kids to enjoy a wine in dinner and it’s not like I can just go out and get thrashed anymore,” he says with a longing smile, “even if there was places like that left.”

Erik is hardly the psychiatrist material but he has to say something to soothe Charles, he has to do _something_ to make him smile again. “Oh, I remember your party boy phase,” he teases.

Charles snorts softly, shakes his head like he is reliving the memories and holds his cup up for Erik to clink his cup against.

Erik hesitates for a second before he offers, “We can have the dinner set on the roof, and the weather is nice enough.”

Charles nods eagerly, red tongue flickering against equally red lips. Erik purposely just doesn’t see it and clears his throat, grabbing the table to not to look at him. It doesn’t take them long to set the table and conversation is easy like always, despite their differences and God, Erik wants to relive this few hours for the rest of his life.

***

Charles feels his heart thump strongly in his chest when Erik smiles abashedly as he compliments his handiwork. His cheeks ache for smiling for hours straight but he can’t seem to stop it when Erik is around.

He actually doesn’t know why they keep tiptoeing each other, when everyone with eyes that see could work out their feelings for each other. But Charles supposes Erik really doesn’t see it yet and he kind of likes the way Erik hides his face in his shoulder when he is blushing because of Charles.

It hurts Charles but that hurt is the best feeling he ever experienced.

The sky is dark navy blue and clear enough that stars and moon brighten their table enough for them to see each other openly.

Erik suggests they go sit in his garden after the dinner and Charles accepts it quickly, always eager to see Erik in places he feels comfortable in. Erik sits with his back to a tree, longs legs stretched out in front of him. Charles hesitates for a second before he lies down his head on his strong thighs and almost regrets in when Erik’s muscles tense visibly under his neck but then Erik relaxes and rests his hand on his chest where he can feel his heartbeat easily. They don’t talk much at first but it’s comfortable, like most of the time they are together and Charles finds out he can’t choose which one he prefers, the easy conversations or soothing silence.

“I’m afraid,” Erik whispers, voice cracking at the last syllable, fingers playing with the buttons of his cardigan. Charles’ first instinct is to reach for him to put his hand over his arm but he stops himself, dropping his hand back at his side when it’s halfway up.

“Everyone’s afraid of something. It’s normal, even for you, Erik,” Charles says with a miserable attempt to brighten his mood.

“I don’t think I’m afraid of the same things with people.”

Charles already knows this, from the way how he never hesitates before making a jump over a deep pit or how he is always the first person give up his food or how he never bothers to get his wounds looked over properly. “Then what are you afraid of?” he asks even though he knows the answer is likely to make him feel like he had been shot in the chest.

“It’s stupid, really,” Erik chuckles without any cheer behind it. His head is bent down just like the times he blushes but Charles doesn’t like this, hates it even, so he laces his fingers with Erik’s to give him support. Erik takes a deep breath before he goes on and his voice is thick when he does. “It’s just… Have you ever tried to remember your favourite things before all this madness started?”

“This world has always been mad the time we were in it.”

“I know but I realised I can’t remember the lyrics to my favourite song this morning. I’ve already forgotten my dad’s face and how my mom sounds like and soon enough I’ll forget how she looks like too and they’ll just become some kind of a book character in my life.”

Charles stares at him in some mix of shock, pity and bewilderment during his little speech. Erik is never too eager to open up, so different than the others who always tries to get it all out, to share their pain so they can have some stranger’s sympathy, so they can assure themselves they are not alone in this hell. He learns more about him in few seconds than he did in months but he now kind of wishes he is oblivious to his struggles, his pain. Because he understands him fully in a sense, how empty everything feels when he wakes up with an ache in his chest with the loss of memories from his past and he tries closing his eyes to imagine his soft bed in their modest house in the country, only place where he was happy when he was a child, but can’t.

“They won’t become some book character,” he said after a few minutes. “I might not know all of your story, Erik but I know how it feels to think you have lost everyone you cared about. I’ve lost almost everyone, I’ve watched them get blown away, burn alive. I’ve heard their screams, and could do nothing to save them, even spare their pain. I thought that day ‘I’ll never forget it, this will hunt me until my last day.’ but actually it fades. You will maybe forget their smiles, the exact colour of their eyes, how their voice sounded but you won’t stop loving them and their love won’t become meaningless someday. They will still be that person who smiled you over the lunch table, who did your homework when you sneaked out with some girlfriend, who gave you last piece of cookie. It won’t be for nothing.”

Erik remains silent for a long time and Charles starts to worry he got overboard and that maybe truth wasn’t Erik wanted to hear. “Thank you,” Erik whispers then, as Charles is mentally slapping himself for being brutally honest. Erik clears his throat, giving him a small but genuine smile. “I guess I needed to hear that. Glad it came from you though, I’d probably punch whoever else tried to tell me that.”

Charles snorts but his hormones rage in his veins, stomach unclenching as soon as he hears Erik’ somewhat light tone but at the same time tensing under Erik’ thankful gaze. “You’re welcome,” he says trying to smile but it probably looks like he is trying to swallow without showing its content to the world.

They get inside when it starts to rain suddenly, rushing to the door before it wets them much and Erik laughs when Charles shakes his head to get rid of the few drops of water.

“Just so you know, I never had a girlfriend,” Erik says suddenly, his hands in his pockets shyly, as Charles hangs his cardigan over a chair because it is warm enough inside.

Charles frowns, even though his heart leaps at the new information. “I’m sorry?”

“You said something about sneaking out with girlfriends but I never had a relationship actually,” he confesses a little sheepishly.

Charles doesn’t see how someone as attractive and nice person as Erik had been all his life but he isn’t going to pretend he is too sad about it when he would be more than okay to be his one and only significant other.

He must have said some of those out loud because the look on Erik’s face is both frustrated and hopeful. His breath catches in his throat and he closes his eyes for a moment to calm his raging heart.

He jolts when he finds Erik has come very close. He gives the longer man a tight smile and leans back on the couch, his arm muscles straining to hold his weight. Erik stares into his eyes experimentally like he is trying to see how long he will survive this intensity. “What are you doing?” Charles says chuckling, his attempt at lightening the mood going to waste as Erik just frowns.“I’m trying something out,” he mumbles, taking another step closer. Charles lets a shaky laugh but decides to play along with him, if he is playing at all. He rests his hips back and puts his hands to each sides of his waist. “Care to enlighten me?”

“I’m trying to understand if you really meant what you just said,” he says nonchalantly but Charles can see right through him, he can notice nervous flicker of his eyes to his right and slight tensing of his stomach.

“Are you satisfied with the result?” Charles asks brightly, drawing Erik closer forcefully, earning a yelp from him when he settles between Charles’ open legs. He starts stroking his back, and tightens his thigh so that they are almost chest-to-chest.

“Very much. I’m now convinced,” Erik says, almost grunting the words, putting one hand on Charles’ hip, one on his neck. Charles feels his breathing fasten, Erik’s thumb almost pressing on his jugular as if to be sure he is alive, their crotches almost grinding together, their lips almost touching, just few centimetres apart.

So many times almost but none of them are enough but all of them are too much. The pull is too strong, the chemistry is too right. Before they know Charles’ face is buried into his neck, breathing harshly on him and the hand on his hips trails down to his thigh to pull it higher so even air can’t pass through them.

They are gnawing, rubbing on each other like animals, they are pulling each other’s hair and clothes to get better access to what they need and to get away from it for a second, to gather their breath, their moans getting deeper and more hoarse by every passing moment. The fabric that sets them apart is the enemy now, causing them a pain so deep that they crave to get rid of them, their blood boils to their mere existence. They win their first battle as Charles slips a hand inside Erik’s thin jumper, then the second when Charles’ hand start to wander his chest.

“Let’s go to the bed,” Erik says, prying himself away from Charles but he can’t keep away from him more than two seconds and starts nibbling at his jaw.

Charles frowns and tries to concentrate long enough to give him an answer but Erik takes control before he has to say anything and leads them to his tiny bedroom.

Charles is daring and confident like he never has been before because the look Erik gives him tells him that in his eyes, he is the most gorgeous person on earth. He looks into Erik’ eyes when he feels Erik’ fingers clutch the hem of his jumper and instead of averting his eyes, he smiles. They don’t eye each other, seeking conformation to go on because they seem comfortable with each other’s bodies, like it is something they do constantly. They are in no rush because they have each other all the time. Lips graze each other faintly when Erik bumps their noses in an Eskimo kiss, earning a deep chuckle from Charles. Charles’ cheeks are tainted pink with contentment and happiness and Erik eyes his face with an adoring gleam in his eyes.

He presses lips together in a close-mouthed kiss and Charles smiles into it, hands trailing upwards to tangle in his short hair. Erik moans when he tightens his hold on his hair and bites down on his lip and Charles uses it as an opportunity to glide his tongue into his mouth. He doesn’t think about saliva, about keeping his reactions in check because he realises Erik loves it when he loses control, when his body shivers beneath him and his tongue explores into his mouth.

Erik pulls at his jumper at the same time his other hand cups him over his jeans. He leans up to get rid of it, because it’s too damn hot when Erik’ hands are on him and so unnecessary to have it on him when they can touch skin to skin. As soon as it’s off, Erik straddles him and bites down on his neck, licks into it and Charles’s sure there will be a huge hickey there tomorrow and it’s the only reason he would ever want this to end and tomorrow to come, so everyone can see it.

“Take this off,” Charles demands, his voice hoarse when Erik starts to grind on his cock with his hard cock and Erik obliges without a hitch. Charles once again wonders how anyone this beautiful would ever look at him like he is looking at him right now, intense with lust and God, love.

They stare at each other as Erik’ ass lines up with Charles’s dick and Charles almost can swear he feels Erik’ hole clenching. His hands wander over his muscled legs before he reaches his back and he palms the firm globes of his ass and separates them to let his cock settle deeper in his crack. He slides his hands inside his boxers and his fingers grabs his solid flesh hard, almost as if he is trying to leave his mark there. His fingers trail the sensitive skin inside his ass and when he reaches his hole, he presses the tip of a dry finger on his quivering asshole carefully. He watches his face closely for a sign of discomfort but finds none as Erik looks like he is high, with his mouth open and shining with both of their saliva and head thrown back in ecstasy. But Charles still knows better than to push his entire finger without anything to ease the friction but Erik takes his whole finger in by suddenly moving back on his hand. Charles’s eyes shot open in fear that he hurt him but then he realises he is loose because he probably fucked himself (or fucked by someone else but he won’t think about that now), so he starts to fuck him with a dry finger, hooking and pressing it in from time to time to keep him on his toes.

Charles pulls at his jeans and his boxers with one hand and Erik stands on his knees to let him but his finger slides out, much to distaste of Erik, given the broken expression on his face. Charles knows how he is feeling, the feeling of being empty suddenly, so he takes his own clothes at the same time.

Erik leans over him to reach the bedside table and grabs lube from the drawer, their naked erections pressing together, making them both hiss in satisfaction and impatience. Charles grabs both of their cocks and fists them as much as he can with one hand, his fingertips not reaching each other as Erik uncaps the bottle. He knows Erik can feel the way his cock throbs like he can feel Erik and the thought makes him shudder under Erik’s weight. Erik looks like he wants to say something cocky for a moment but he forgets it when Charles releases his own cock to give Erik’ more attention, thumb playing with the slit and spraying the precum all over his thick cock.

God, even though he aches to get inside Erik, he also can’t wait to have Erik’s cock in him so he can feel him all day afterwards.

Charles forgets everything when Erik smears lube on his fingers and reaches behind his back to stretch himself. Charles stares at him open mouthed for a while, dumbfounded with lust he never felt before but the man above him is the most gorgeous thing in this whole fucking world and he is fingering himself so he can take him inside his hot body.

He grabs the base of Erik’ cock when he feels him shake, to make sure he doesn’t come just with his own fingers inside him. He now also can see Erik’ fingers fucking into his hole and Charles has to close his eyes and take a deep breath to keep his own orgasm at bay but the image keep flashing behind his eyelids and Erik’ moans are loud and desperate in his ears. He also tells him to open his eyes and look at him.

He is now fucking himself with three fingers but it doesn’t last long and he slicks Charles’s cock with lube quickly and grabs the base of it, making Charles trash on the covers with the feel of his calloused hands on the oversensitive skin.

He presses the tip of his cock to his entrance and sink on it, taking him inch by inch and Charles wants that moment to end as soon as possible and last forever at the same time. He wants to watch his cock disappear into his tight ass but he also wants to be buried deep inside him so they both can give each other pleasure.

Erik head is thrown back in pleasure and he takes deep breaths through his nose. Charles grabs his hands and tangles their fingers together and tugs him to look at him. Erik looks at him, looks at his smile and he gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing seductively, making him want to bite on it.

He then leans down to kiss him harshly, open mouthed, his back bend impossibly but he makes it happen in his haste to taste him in his mouth. His walls clench around him helplessly and Charles almost chokes when Erik tenses and relaxes his muscles on purpose.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters into his mouth, one hand on his neck, one hand on his chest, occasionally twisting his nipples sharply to draw louder whimpers from his lover.

“Fuck me,” Erik whines and it’s all Charles has to hear before he starts to thrust into his tight hole, grasping his hips to steady himself. After Erik gets over the shock of sudden pleasure, he starts to meet him in the halfway and their movements get bolder with every second, hair plastered to their necks and foreheads. Charles changes the angle of his thrusts few times to find his prostate and he finds it when he leans back on his elbows. The position gives him a chance to watch his cock get in and out of Erik better but he is not a porn star and he is hardly fit for long physical activity, so he pick up his pace and his thrust gets harder, shaking Erik’ much bigger body with the force of his hips. He feels his legs shake with the effort to keep both of them up but thankfully they are both very close and Erik comes on both of their stomachs with a shout, his hole convulsing around his throbbing cock and it takes him just a few seconds to come, his seed covering Erik’ still shuddering ass.

Erik throws himself next to him, cum and lube leaking from his asshole but they are both to tired and sated to think about the mess they made of the sheets.

They both reach for each other’s hands simultaneously, which makes them grin like idiots and how could they wait so long to do this?

“We really shouldn’t have waited this long to do this,” Charles says after he regains his breath. Erik smiles at him sheepishly, “I thought it might just be my imagination.”

“It never was just your imagination, Erik,” Charles says truthfully and feels his world grow when his face brightens.

“You are giving me more than I hoped,” Erik admits.

“Oh Erik,” Charles almost coos. “You don’t realise how much you mean to me too, do you? You don’t even know how many times I prayed to God for a chance at happiness with you.”

“I don’t believe in a God,” Erik says dismissively, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling, “not after everything I’ve seen in this world.”

Charles exhales suddenly, his body going loose like whatever he is gripping for support escaped between his fingers. Because he doesn’t want Erik to feel hopeless for this world even though he knows Erik is not the kind to easily hope when there is almost nothing to build his hope on, like he is.

The bed creaks under them as Erik turns to lie on his side. “I don’t believe in a God, so I’ll have to do everything in my power to make you happy in this life.”

And that, Charles decides, is not something he will argue with.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not very carefully edited yet but I'll get to it when I'm not tired. Hope you liked it and feedback is always greatly appreciated!! :)


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